Finding Bliss (28 page)

Cam brought dinner to my house that night, and we ate in front of the TV once Connor was asleep. About halfway through our movie, there was a knock at the back door. Tyler was standing there when I opened it.

“Sorry I didn’t call first, but I had to drop something off at my parents’ house, so I thought I’d stop by.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Cam’s here actually. We were just finishing up dinner.”

Tyler looked over my shoulder, and then back at me. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“Then why does it feel like I am?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Tyler’s expression soured as Cam came up behind me.

“Hey man,” Cam said.

Tyler looked at him and said nothing.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked Tyler as I stepped back from the doorway.

He shook his head and kept his eyes on Cameron. “No.”

“Tyler, we’re just hanging out. Connor’s asleep; come on in,” I said.

Tyler looked at me for a second, then stepped into the house and punched Cam in the face.

C
am collapsed as Tyler turned and left.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, dropping to the floor next to him. “Cam, oh my God, Cam, are you okay?!” I slapped him gently to try to elicit a response. “Cam, please!”

As soon as he moaned and lifted his hand to his head, I ran to the freezer and grabbed an ice pack. I frantically wrapped a dish towel around it and ran back to his side.

“Here, put this on your eye.” My hands were shaking as I handed him the cold towel. “I am so sorry. I have no idea what just happened.”

“My face has an idea,” he mumbled.

“I cannot believe he just did that, oh my God, I am so sorry.”

“You know any good lawyers?” he asked. “I’m just kidding, I’ll be fine. You think a smart-ass kid like me never got hit in the face before?” Cam sat up, holding the ice pack to his face.

“Let me see it,” I said.

He removed the ice, and I winced. “Well, it looks like your upper cheekbone, but at least it’s not your eye.”

“Yay,” Cam said and placed the ice back on his face.

“I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but he’s going through a lot, and I guess seeing you here must have pushed him over the edge.”

“Clearly,” he mumbled and leaned back against the cabinets.

“It’s inexcusable. I’m mortified. He obviously feels threatened by our friendship, and since I’m letting you stay here and not him…he must have just snapped.”

“You don’t have to defend him,” Cam said.

I nodded. “You’re right. It was a dick move that you did not deserve in the least. Can I at least apologize like fifty more times?”

He shrugged. “Follow me with a cold beer, and I’ll forgive you.”

Cam made his way back to the couch, chugged his beer, and fell asleep. When Felicia arrived the next morning, I drove him to the airport. Though his face was bruised, his spirit wasn’t broken.

“Never a dull moment,” I said as I hugged him.

“Not with you.”

“I always hate to see you go, especially after getting clocked by my husband.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about me, you have enough on your plate.”

“You’re still cute, even with a shiner.”

“I know,” he said.

As he exited the car, I grabbed his bag out of the back and met him by the passenger door. I set it down at his feet and was about to give him a hug when he kissed me. He didn’t say a word—just leaned forward, gently grabbed the back of my neck, and kissed me. My eyes were still closed when he pulled away. “You still taste like spearmint,” I whispered before opening them.

“Thanks,” he said, grinning like a naughty teenager.

I leaped into his arms and held him in a long embrace. It was hard not to beg him to stay, but I needed time to think and settle things in my life first. Maybe another time. “When will I see you again?” I asked.

“Just click your heels together three times and say, there’s no one like Cam, and I’ll appear.”

I smiled. “It might be sooner than you think.”

“I’m always here for you. Just say the word.”

I nodded and hugged him one last time before getting in my car and bursting into tears.

I went home, answered a few e-mails, and took a conference call at two o’clock. I let Felicia go early that afternoon, and took Connor for a long walk in the stroller. We walked about ten blocks, to where Jack and Grace had just put a bid in on a house. She’d recently gotten a job teaching at Glenview Methodist Preschool and would be moving back to town within the year. By the time I got back to the house, Connor was awake and hungry. I fixed a bottle and fed him outside on the front porch before heading upstairs to put him to sleep.

He is an angel, I thought, as I sat smiling with my son in my lap. His dark blue eyes were on me, doing their best to focus and preserve the image of my face. I looked away for a moment and glanced out his bedroom window, which overlooked the backyard.

“Only a few more months and you’ll be out there on those swings,” I told him.

He smashed his tiny lips together and then stilled, his top lip protruding out over the lower one.

I rocked in the chair and sang “Twinkle Twinkle” and the alphabet song before gently placing him down into the crib. When I turned to leave, a framed photograph of Tyler and Sammy and Sarah caught my eye. It was on Connor’s bookshelf, next to a blue piggy bank. Dixie had brought the photograph for Connor the first time she came to visit. I lifted the picture off the shelf and gazed into Tyler’s eyes. I’d fallen for him through panes of glass so many years before; however, at that moment he was a stranger to me. I placed the frame back down and walked over to the crib. Everything I loved was right here.

I tiptoed out of Connor’s room and headed into my bedroom, where I began tearing through some old boxes at the back of my closet in search of some other photos to add to his bookshelf. Just then something fell from a shelf above and landed at my feet. I laughed as I bent down to pick it up.

I carried it back down the hall to the baby’s room.

“Looks like I won’t be needing this anymore,” I said and hung the “Find Your Bliss” pillow on my son’s doorknob.

The End

I lifted Connor out of his car seat, set him on the ground and watched him sprint into Tyler’s arms. I grabbed his overnight bag from the front seat and walked toward them.

“Everything’s in here,” I said, handing the bag to Tyler.

“Thanks. We’ll be just fine.”

I gave Connor a kiss on the head—which was all I was permitted by my precocious one year old—and headed for the airport.

I arrived at LAX at ten o’clock in the morning that Friday and hailed the first cab I saw. Grinning from ear to ear, I gave the driver the address and sat on the edge of my seat during the twenty-five minute ride.

As soon as the cab pulled away I walked up to the front door of the bungalow style house and rang the bell.

Cam answered with a smile and a bowl of Lucky Charms in his hand.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to bring you home.”

Much like everything I write, this book is filled with truths. The stories of infertility, infidelity, alcoholism, mental illness, and much more were inspired by those of some very generous and amazing women.

I would like to thank Stephanie Bass, Marilyn Mages, Erin Hanley, Alexa Wagner, and Robin Miller for sharing details of their personal stories with me.

Thanks to my fabulous beta readers: Wendy Wilken, Beth Suit, Iris Martin, Meg Costigan, Tammy Langas, Kelly Konrad, Jamie Struck, Rebecca Berto, my mom, and my mother-in-law. Your enthusiasm and honest feedback were encouraging and irreplaceable.

Thank you to my family at Amazon Publishing, especially the totally tubular team of Liz Egan, Carly Hoffmann, and Christina Henry de Tessan. And thanks to my agent, Deborah Schneider, for always having my back.

Also, to everyone who has read my books and supported my work over the years, I have no words to express my gratitude. I am so honored to be part of a community of authors who praise and support one another. I’m so humbled every time someone sets aside their life to read one of my stories, send me an e-mail, or leave a review on my behalf. I don’t take any of it for granted.

Last, behind every great author are two great men…or something like that. A megahearty thank-you to my husband, Jeff, and my son, Ryan, for their unwavering support and confidence in me.

A graduate of Purdue University, Dina Silver has spent the past fifteen years feeding her red wine habit by working as a copywriter in the advertising industry. After seeing the bulk of her professional prose on brochures and direct-mail pieces, she is delighted to have made the transition to novelist. She now hopes she’ll become a screenwriter one day.

She lives with her family in suburban Chicago, where she spends way too much time on Facebook and Twitter when she should be working on her next book.
Finding Bliss
is her third novel.

Discover more at
www.dinasilver.com
.